Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
He deserves this.
No, he deserves more.
Plus, everything is replaceable to him.
He has the money to buy whatever he likes.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I turn to find him in the doorway, the look of anger is evident on his face. Good. Welcome to how I feel, asshole.
Turning away from him, I continue to pull down his shit because I don’t give a shit. “Redecorating,” I reply with my back to him. “It’s what a good wife would do.”
Hands wrap around my waist, and they lift.
“Put me down.” I slap at his hands as he throws me onto the bed, and I bounce. It’s the only place where I haven’t made a complete mess. I start laughing, and soon he’s standing right next to me.
“You’re fucking crazy! You know that, right?” His eyes pin me. “You just destroyed thousands of dollars’ worth of my things.” He climbs on the bed, and my laughter stops instantly as his body hovers over me, and those whiskey-colored eyes lock onto mine. “Do you want attention, Bunny? Is that why you’re doing this?”
Looking up at him, my eyes narrow. “Get off.”
“You came into my bedroom first Bunny. I didn’t come to you.”
“I can smell her on you.”
Whiskey licks his lips. “My tongue is sore, and yet, I still want to kiss you. Do I take the risk?” he teases, leaning in close. His lips pause at mine. “Or, perhaps I could destroy your things as well.” He pushes off me, but as he does, I feel his desire for me. It was evident as well when he kissed me, but then it made me mad thinking of watching him with her. Whiskey reaches for the scissors and starts heading toward my room. It takes only a second to click as to what he’s said, and I jump from the bed to see him already in my room, tearing at my things.
I reach for him, but he shrugs me off.
“Oh, my god. That’s vintage. Put that down,” I scream at him.
“These?” He holds them up, and with a snip of the scissors I used to ruin all of his things, he’s now doing the same to me. Before I can think of what I’m doing, I am jumping on his back. That doesn’t stop him, though. He continues grabbing my stuff, paying me no mind. I reach for his hair, pulling at it, trying to make him stop. He drops the scissors and steps back until my back hits the wall. I drop my legs from around him, catching myself before I land on my ass. He turns fast, so fast that his body is now pushed against mine. Every inch of him, every inch that I don’t want, is now on me.
“Get off,” I manage to speak.
“You don’t want that, now do you?” He pushes me, and my body rises to meet his. I hate myself for it, but my body wants what my mind doesn’t.
“Get. Off,” I say through gritted teeth all the while somehow leaning in.
“Harder did you say?” Whiskey pushes closer, and I have to stop myself from grinding on him. It’s very fucking hard, considering I know what he can give me. To know what he is packing and how he can make me feel.
I don’t have to start grinding because he does. All the while, his eyes never leave mine.
“You’re pushing your limits,” I say, becoming breathless. My eyes close, and I push back into him. It’s been too long.
“Tell me you want it,” he whispers near my ear. “I can smell you. I know you do.”
“I want it.” Dammit! The words betray me. My body betrays me.
“Beg for it.”
My eyes fly open at his words. “Beg?” I manage to speak.
“Yes, Bunny, beg.”
My hands push on his chest. “Get off of me, you scum. There’s no damn way I am begging.”
“We’ll get you there. You will beg.” He places a chaste kiss on my forehead and pushes back, getting off me. “Clean up your mess and stay out of my room.”
The asshole walks out, leaving me in my room all hot and bothered.
I don’t come out of my room until the next day, and I only come out when I know he’s left. I watch as his car drives away, and when I walk into the kitchen, my breakfast is made and sitting on the counter with a note.
You can’t avoid me forever.
Are you kidding! I sure as shit can try.
It only lasts one day before he comes into my room uninvited. I’m getting ready for work, and he stands there like he always does. Half in and half out, eyeing me with those eyes. Pulling my skirt up, I slide the zipper up and turn to face him. I only have a bra on––a red lacy one––that any sane man would be drooling over. Every man except Whiskey. And I’m a little disappointed.